Lolita
by Wings of Wax
Summary: 1. Eccentric tastes and, as some would say, immoral desires lead humanity's finest Commander to the opulent underbelly of the pristine interior. 2. Planning to return to the Underground one last time to honor the memory of his friends, Levi stumbles upon something he never anticipated. 3. Hope- someone or something that may be able to provide help. 4. Miranda. 5. Smut.
1. Lolita

Hi all! So this is a fun little fic I wrote thanks to an errant line of conversation with MercedesCarello that probably went in a direction she didn't expect it to. :)

I have to say, I enjoyed writing this.

I hope you do too!

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_Lolita_: a precociously seductive girl

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Erwin (takes place a day or two after the fight with Annie in Stohess district)

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There were perks to being on the interior of Wall Sheena. The nobles had a taste for the finer things in life; while there was often a pretty penny to be spent on such frivolities, sometimes it was _worth_ more than half of his wages. Even in the beautiful, pristine interior, there were dark places to be found hidden behind secret doors or passwords.

Aspen Street. Following along the perfect sidewalk kept clean by dutiful little servants, he made his way to the exact center of the road. To his left was an elegant tea shop where women in flowing dresses and large hats sipped on steaming mugs of tea-flavored water (which was cheaper than real tea, but far worse), ate tiny biscuits, and gossiped loudly. Two recognized him and tried to wave him over, but he pretended he hadn't seen them. A reprimand would come later, he was sure, for he'd probably just offended some artisan's wife.

Rather than linger any longer, he darted over to the tobacco shop. Cigarettes weren't a luxury, per se, but the finer tobaccos and wrappings were. A small bell jingled over the door as he entered, and the scent of strong mint and tobacco assaulted him. His eyes adjusted rapidly to the dim store that lacked windows and had only a handful of dim gas lamps. A stubby and withered old man waved to him from a stool behind a long counter. His hunch must have grown twice its size since the last time Erwin had made the trip here.

"How are ye today, Commander?" The tiny ancient's lilting accent was intriguing, but he'd already wasted time contemplating its source during years long gone. He had little time to spare for conversation.

"Well, sir," he answered quickly. The owner of the fine tobacco establishment gave Erwin a knowing smile and winked one wrinkled eye. "I take it you've restocked recently?" The game had officially begun.

The little old man bobbed his head several times, the hump growing each time he lowered it. "Go on down, dear boy!" Erwin nodded as his thanks and slipped through the narrow aisles. The door in the back of the shop, partially hidden behind a wooden humidity-controlled case, was his destination. It was plain and unmarked, nearly blending in with the panels of wood that lined the walls. He pushed it open and slipped through the small space. It was only once he was on the third stair that he was able to shut the door behind himself. Reaching into his pocket, he slipped the folded black leather mask from his pocket and secured it around his face. With the first part, the easiest part, of the game over, he took a deep breath to prepare for the rest.

The staircase was so dark, he felt nearly blind. One hand groped for the handrail before he continued on. He knew these narrow stairs were steep and could be treacherous. He'd fallen down them one drunken night many years ago. Explaining away the bruises to his commanding officer at the time hadn't been a pleasant experience, and he did not desire to repeat it- no matter how the circumstances had changed. Each step he took seemed deeper than the last, forcing him to move slowly. By small degrees, the area around him began to lighten. He could make out the words scratched into or drawn on the walls.

Names, dates, places, random words or strange symbols- each mark had its own meaning. The single feather he'd added himself the first time he'd come was now partially written over by the word "doll". On hand reached up to stroke the tiny silver feather pin on his lapel. Everyone had their own token of passage, and each was unique. This made it difficult to identify others in public. Was that a symbol for entrance, or was that just a nice brooch? He thought of the word "doll" for just a split second before opening the next door. What sort of symbol did one wear to match that word?

He was assaulted once again by smells, but this time it was composed overpowering perfumes mixed with thick, acrid smoke and a hint of sex. He pushed through it, breathing deeply. A large fireplace in the center of the room was the main source of light. Candles and torches strategically placed throughout the rest of the large, wide room kept most of the corners in shadow. Eyes of varying shades of dark black and fiery orange peered out at him from in the crowd. He knew the pair he sought- he just had to find her.

Brushing through the crowds of writhing bodies that moved with the soft sound of strange instruments lost to the rest of humanity, he made his way to the back wall. Two candles sat at either end of the makeshift bar where one of the only true employees stood, mask-less. The boy's round face was full of youth and there was a glint in his eyes that spoke of passions considered taboo. He took the small brown canvas sack from the inside pocket of his black dinner jacket and let it settle into the young man's waiting palm.

"Take your pick." The sultry voice brought a barely-controlled, tight-lipped smile to his face. "Good evening."

"Where is she, Miranda?" he asked, not bothering to face her. She pressed herself to his back, draping one arm over his shoulder to caress his chest. She pressed her cheek to his neck; wisps of her hair tickled his cheek. He could smell the opium in her hair, on her breath, in her clothes. The sickly sweet aroma turned his stomach, but he did not pull away.

"Why don't you ever want to play with the big girls?" Miranda teased in an almost sing-song tone. The glass in her other hand found its way to the counter. In a single fluid movement that he wasn't altogether sure how she managed in her present condition, she stepped around to his left side, the arm over his shoulder sliding with her and reaching up to his neck with the other hand found his cheek. Her sharp nails scratched lightly over his skin, causing chill bumps to rise over his arms. She pulled him down a few inches to her level, her mouth hovering just in front of his; her lips almost grazing his as she continued, "You know I don't like to be called that. Where are your manners?"

With a defeated sigh, Erwin rolled his eyes just slightly. "Where is she, _Mistress_?" Miranda gave a delighted little giggle and released him. He straightened and peered down at her. Each time he'd come, she had on a new sort of exotic outfit. This time, she appeared to be dressed in some sort of dark silk robe decorated with large, strange flowers. While tied, it didn't serve to cover her very well. One of her breasts was nearly falling out, and her bare right hip was visible. She tapped his nose with one finger, then pointed. He followed the finger to the dark corner that lay on the opposite wall from the little bar they currently stood at.

The next stage of the game was about to begin. He spared one quick glance at the boy. Miranda snapped her fingers and he instantly produced two cups. Her nails clacked against the clear glass as she held his up for him. He accepted it, gave the woman before him a silent toast, and then downed the thick liquid in a few swift gulps. He passed the glass over the bar back to the boy who continued to eye him with a look that sent a chill down the back of Erwin's spine. He turned away from the young man and the raven-haired beauty.

"Don't break my little doll!" Miranda called after him, employing the same sing-song tone. Ignoring the jibe, he breezed through the crowd. Whatever the drink was, it was strong. Already he felt less tense, his shoulders no longer pulling back into the well-trained perfect posture he had grown accustomed to. Every few steps, a heel would scrape against the floor and he'd remember that he wasn't marching. The wool dinner jacket grew hot and uncomfortable, but he didn't remove it just yet. He almost reached up to adjust the bolero that usually sat around his neck, but he remembered as his hand twitched up that it had been left behind with the rest of his uniform.

The crowd parted for him. His eyes landed on his target at long last. He tried to resist the little smirk of satisfaction that tugged at the corners of his lips. With narrowed eyes, he approached her. She was in the dress he adored, but upon closer inspection, he noticed that it was no longer powder gray, but deep violet. Some of the trimmings had been altered as well.

The bodice of the dress was nothing more than a corset- revealing a small amount of skin at her back and forcing her small breasts together and up to create a small valley of cleavage. Puffed sleeves that connected to small strips of lace-edge cloth and ended in a bow around her neck had been added. The skirt was shorter than he remembered. He could see layer after layer of white crinolines beneath the darker top layer. There was a wide black bow that rested on top of the skirt right were her ass was. His fingers twitched involuntarily as she came closer. Tall white stockings and flats with ribbons that tied half-way up her calves completed the ensemble.

"Good evening." There was a tiny smile on her painted lips, but he could hear the pleasure in her voice at seeing him again. She threw both arms around his waist in a tight hug as she gave a high-pitched little giggle, the thousands of perfect blonde ringlets bouncing as she did so. The top of her head barely reached his chest. He returned the embrace, one of his arms around her tiny waist, the other across the top of her back, his hand curling around her thin shoulder. As she pulled away, his hands lingered, dancing over the fabric, meeting her warm skin, then gliding over the textured fabric once more. She looked up at him through thick, long lashes. He knew her large, almond-shaped eyes were typically the color of milky coffee, but in the dark lighting, they appeared black and full of seduction.

She danced around to his back and reached up on her tip toes with both hands, grabbing the neck of his jacket before opening it wide and sliding it down over his shoulders and catching it as it fell from his arms. Her fingers tickled his spine as she rubbed his back through the soft green silk shirt. Her hand fell away and she stepped back around to his front, chewing on the edge of her bottom lip as she tried to hide a smile. Draping his jacket over one arm, she took his hand with the other and led him to the low couch against the wall. There were various other similar couches along the walls, but they were spaced far enough apart as to give each occupant some symbol of mild privacy. Thanks to the music, conversations couldn't be overheard. Due to the poor lighting and the smoke, you almost had to be on top of someone else to see exactly what was going on.

He turned to sit, but before he managed to lower himself, her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down into the soft, deep cushions. He chuckled a little at her eager expression and watched her hang the jacket he never wanted to wear again on a small hook on the wall above him, but just out of arm's reach. He watched the muscles in her toned calves and thighs as she stretched on her toes to reach. He could almost see under the last layer of crinolines, but then she was back on flat feet and traipsing back to him. She turned in a flourish of skirts and sat on his left thigh, still farther away than he wanted her.

There were rules to this game, and he knew he had to follow them. Every nerve in his body screamed a desire to break them all. Fighting to maintain his composure, he allowed himself one hand pressed to the small of her back, just over the big bow. She took his other hand and pressed his palm to her rosy, plump cheek. He wanted to snatch her tiny body closer and bury her beneath himself. Resistance was necessary, but difficult. This was no new battle, though he could honestly say he'd lost every single time before.

She moved his hand to her mouth, pressing her lips to his palm before taking a deep, long breath, as if she were trying to inhale his very soul. As she exhaled, he pulled his hand away and sat it on the top of her head for just a moment, depressing the two separate mounds of ringlets that sprang right back up the second he moved his hand. She gave that little giggle once more and placed on of her tiny, pale hands on his face.

"I've missed you. Why have you been away for so long?" He frowned and shook his head, his eyes tearing away from hers. This wasn't the place for those thoughts. What little time he had left was for him to enjoy, not for him to spend reflecting upon the poor choices he'd have to live with for the rest of his life. "I'm sorry." At her soft whimper, his eyes snapped back up to her face. Her teeth were chewing her bottom lip furiously, her cheeks were dimpled, and her eyes were wide and full of sadness.

"None of that," he scolded gently, grasping her chin. She gave a little gasp and the nibbling on her lip stopped for a moment. He drew her closer, pressing his lips to hers and grabbing that plump, luscious bottom lip with his own teeth. The tiny moan of pleasure and the way she arched her back to him drove a spike straight from his brain down to his groin. As he released her lip and filled her little mouth with his tongue, his hand tightened on her back and he found one of her own little hands with the other. She needed no guidance, though he wanted to give it. He brought her hand to his shoulder, and the hand that had rested on his chest wrapped around his back. She slid over his lap, coming ever closer to exactly where he wanted her.

She began to fight back, and he felt a familiar fire burn through his chest. Some of her fingers clutched at his neck with the others grabbed a handful of his hair at the base of his neck. She pulled hard, jerking his head back and surprising him just enough for her to force her way into his mouth instead. Her waist had shifted, and she no longer sat on his lap. Instead, each of her knees were buried into the cushions on either side of his hips. She was a straight as she could manage, but her reach was limited. Her hips hovered only inches above his own, and she couldn't keep his head tilted back the way she'd had it.

Releasing her tight hold and pulling away, she huffed a little in frustration. He chuckled, exhilarated. His arms crushed her to his chest, and he could feel her breasts despite the corset that held them so tightly in place. She gazed at him with her head tilted in a curious way. He smirked and dipped his head low, his tongue darting forward to lick up the small beads of sweat that had formed in the small dip that served as her cleavage. She gave a little gasp of delight, but he lifted his head once more. She tasted like vanilla and honey. Her arms came up to wrap around his head and she pressed his cheek to her bosom.

He remained in that place for a long moment. His arms wrapped completely around her so that he reached the opposite side he'd started on. He simply held her, and she him. For at least this moment, he had no obligations, no responsibilities, no guilt. He could have remained in that moment for an eternity, but he was all too aware of the fading effects of the drink and what he knew was the lateness of the hour. He turned his head and licked from the side to the top of her tiny breast before biting down just hard enough to make her shout with surprise, not pain. She latched onto his hair once more and jerked his head back. Her head shot forward and her own teeth and tongue were covering his neck in small marks of affection. He tugged her back gently, looking down at her with one eyebrow raised in a stern expression. She lowered her head and blinked up at him through her lashes, knowing it melted him each and every time.

"Can't you stay?" she begged, grasping at the collar of his shirt, trying to undo the top button. He brought one hand around to wrap over hers, stopping her. He shook his head. "You never stay anymore." She poked out her bottom lip, pouting and crossing her arms over her chest. She sat down fully in his lap and again, the spike returned.

A low groan came from his chest and she gave him a devilish smirk before rotating her hips ever so slightly. He placed both hands on either side of her hips, bringing her to a halt. His thumbs found her hip bones, then fell into the dips and mashed down hard. She bucked, jerking towards him rather than away, her mouth popping open into a perfect "o" shape and her eyes doing the same.

"Two can play this game," he muttered, the words more growled than spoken. As soon as she recovered, her face split into a wide grin.

"Do it again," she whispered, pressing close to his chest. He nuzzled he side of her neck as she lifted herself just a little higher, then he pressed hard once more, making her jump and give a little squeal of delight. Her fingernails dug into his chest and shoulders. He could not repress the feral grin that made its way to his face. She moaned out a little sigh, then lifted her head and adjusted her body to kiss him once again.

He surprised her when he suddenly let go of her hips. Her eyes opened to stare at him, but his mouth moved against hers, distracting her for the split second it took for him to reach the tops of her bare thighs and slide his hands up under the layers of her skirt. He reached around and grabbed each of her ass cheeks in his hands, kneading the firm muscles for a moment before her knees gave out and she was fully pressed against him once more. She shuddered and her nails scraped over the silk on his back.

Before she could do anything more, he'd moved his hands to her shoulders and was forcing her back as gently as he could. When she finally let him go, he gathered her in his arms and stood, ignoring the stab pain in his left knee from an old injury. He turned and sat her down on the couch, kissing the top of her head. Curled up below him, she looked so very small, so fragile. The perfect paint on her lips was smudged, and he felt sure he was wearing most of it now. He caressed her cheek one last time, then turned. She grabbed his hand before he could get more than a step away.

"Please," she begged. She wasn't whining or pouting this time. She was sitting up, genuinely asking for him to stay with her wide eyes framed in long, thick lashes. "Please don't leave me."

"Then come with me," he teased. She bit her lip and her eyes tightened before darting around the room. She pulled him closer.

"Don't," she whispered. "That's not funny." He frowned down at her, and he knew that she could see the question in his eyes. She just shook her head and pursed her lips. "I'll see you next time?"

She was resigned, he realized. He nodded once, then pressed his lips close to her ear. "And you _will_ come with me." He pulled away, glanced at her long enough to see her eyes light up once more, and then he reached up to grab the coat and stalked away.

He skimmed the edges of the crowd to reach the door. Once on the little landing, before mounting the stairs, he used the small, nearly burnt-out candle and the tiny looking-glass to wipe away traces of her make up. He shrugged back into the coat and sighed. He took on his proper posture and demeanor, adjusted himself accordingly, and headed for the real world once more.

The little old man waved to him as he passed back through the store. Erwin was surprised to find it already growing dark in the streets outside. The little tea shop was closed, and the street was mostly deserted. A single figure stood with his back to the rest of the street at the corner where Aspen joined Oak, a larger, busier road.

"Took you long enough," Levi bristled. He looked up at Erwin and sucked his teeth. "You've still got lipstick on your neck."

Reaching up with the black sleeve of his coat, he wiped it away. "Why are you here?"

"Someone has to make sure you aren't followed," Levi grunted back. "You think Pixis is just going to stand idly by if it comes out you go to a shit-hole like that?"

Erwin rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "No, but frankly, after this last expedition, I don't expect I'll be Commander for much longer." Levi shrugged, but chose not to comment. They both stepped out into the slightly busier sidewalk and headed for Wall Rose.

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Let me know what y'all think!


	2. Gutter

So I guess I should provide a tad bit of explanation. I wrote "Lolita" as a oneshot- just for the pure enjoyment of a fling, so to speak. That's not how things worked. My mind refused to leave the idea alone, and now I have this chapter as the second, and two more planned after it. -_-

I hope you enjoy this strange little idea that's become so much more than I anticipated. :)

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_Gutter_: the lowest or most vulgar level or condition of human life

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Levi (days after the return from his first expedition outside the Walls- see "No Regrets")

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Darting through the streets above ground was far different from navigating the brutal gangs and filth of the Underground. Sticking to the shadows, he wished he had his three-dimensional maneuvering gear, but it had been taken from him upon their return. He wasn't permitted to use it inside the Walls unless there was an emergency. With an annoyed grunt, he side-stepped a fast-moving carriage and slipped into a dark alley. He knew the ins and outs of the city better than most- he'd spent his entire life dreaming of walking among these pathetic fools.

Just as he was shoving a set of empty barrels to the side to gain entrance to a cellar, he glanced around him to make sure no one was watching him. Instead, his eyes caught sight of someone that was entirely too familiar. Eyebrows knitting together, he peeked around the corner of the building to confirm his suspicions. Indeed, Squad Leader Erwin was strolling down the sidewalk, wearing plain clothes rather than his uniform. His goal could wait for later, he decided. He had enough time.

Stepping out on the sidewalk several yards behind the blond man, he trailed along. Erwin wandered through the interior for over a half hour before coming to a small tobacco store. Levi frowned when he vanished inside. Glancing around, he made his way down to the end of the road before turning the corner onto a back street. He knew this area.

Below a large crate full of empty sacks and boxes lay a small trap door. He kicked the crate to the side and bent to grab the metal ring. He lifted the slab of old, partially rotted wood and vanished into the dark hole. As one of the fewer, less manageable exits to the outside, he'd used it more than once to escape for a few moments under the cover of black night. The ladder was old and barely serviceable, but he managed with a practiced sway to skip the invisible broken rungs. The pitch black faded into a slightly more visible dark gray when he reached the ground.

He grimaced down at the pulled of filth he'd landed in, but was grateful for the boots that kept his feet dry. Drawing up the hood of the black cloak he'd exchanged for the one the Corps had given him, he sidestepped piles of trash and a few skeletons as he made his way towards the light source. There were only a few small cracks in the ancient wooden door that let in the dim illumination. It was nothing for him to pick the lock and slip inside.

Choking on the foul stench of smoke and sex, it took him a long moment to figure out exactly what he was looking at. When his eyes rested on some of the scantily clad women and the men in opium-induced comas, he sneered. Yes, he'd heard of these places, but he'd never seen a reason to go near them. Strange music from odd instruments poured from one wall. A group of performers sat on a slightly raised platform. Before them, two women danced exotically, their hips gyrating faster than he'd ever seen. Tearing his eyes from the sight, he looked for Erwin.

He felt conspicuous among the well-dressed noblemen in his uniform, even with the black cloak covering most of him. Slipping along the edge of the crowd in the center of the room, he tried to study each face. Most of them wore masks, but he felt he'd still be able to recognize Erwin if he saw him. The tall and well-built blond would stand out among these flabby, sagging nobles. There was one man relaxing on a couch against a dark wall, but there was a little girl in his lap. Something in him didn't want to believe that could be Erwin.

The man brushed his fingers through the girl's hair, twirling one perfect blonde ringlet around his index finger. The girl couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, but she was dressed up in a fluffy dress and corset with lips and eyes painted to match. Her high-pitched little giggle as Erwin stroked her cheek with one finger made his stomach turn. At the delicate and tender kiss they shared, he had to turn away.

Escaping out of the room the same way he'd come in, he rushed for the surface. What sort of man was Erwin? Levi forced the vomit building in the back of his throat back down. He rapidly ascended the broken ladder and threw the wooden door open, damning anyone who might be looking. With enough sense to close and cover the door before darting away, he ensured a way back for himself, should he act on the impulse that was driving him to return to that shit-hole of drug addicts and perverts. In no time flat, he found himself kneeling on the roof of a building only a block away from the tobacco shop.

Had he really just seen Erwin with a little girl? It felt wrong to even consider the possibility, but he couldn't deny what his eyes had seen. That sick fuck bought the services of a twelve-year-old? What kind of Squad Leader was the Survey Corps employing? Did they even know? He doubted it. Again the impulse to go back shot down his spine. He shook it away. Going back would do more harm than good- even if he would love the satisfaction of exposing that sick son-of-a-bitch.

Thoughts of the little girl stopped him. He'd seen it happen so many times… Mothers would sell their sons and daughters to the slavers for enough money to feed themselves for a month or buy their drugs for a week. Other children were simply taken, ensnared by promises of a hot meal or a warm bed. The fact that there was such a high demand for those children made him want to murder the slavers, but he knew more would just replace them. As old slavers were killed off, the new slavers came in and took over, usually treating those in their possession even worse than the previous owner.

He thought of Isabel. She'd been more than half-dead when he'd found her. So weak she could barely talk, he'd taken her in and he and Furlan had taken care of her until she was stronger. The day he'd found her, there had been other children in the shit-covered alley- all equally beaten and starved. He'd thought the rest were dead, but he could still picture them. Two dark-haired and dark-skinned boys and a blonde toddler had all been piled up together. Was that infant the same girl he'd just seen with Erwin? It might as well have been, he thought.

The desire to murder the Squad Leader had faded during the last part of the expedition and had altogether snuffed itself out since they'd been back behind the Walls. Now, however, it returned with a vengeance. His fists clenched and one hand found the knife secured in his boot. Erwin would be tired and distracted by the time he left the whore house; that would be the perfect opportunity to take him out.

Levi sat on that roof for the next few hours, waiting for Erwin to reemerge from the front of the shop. Darkness fell before he heard the tiny tinkle of the bell from inside the store, but as soon as he heard it, he slipped down from the roof and crouched in the shadows, waiting for Erwin to reach a more secluded area before attacking him. He followed him through the more populous areas of the city, but as soon as they reached a dark section of streets, Levi shot out. He grabbed the Squad Leader by the back of his jacket and forced him against a nearby wall, holding the sharp blade to his neck.

"Levi?" Erwin asked, shocked. He lowered his hands. Levi could see that he was neither drunk nor high. "What are you doing? Let go of me." The words were calm, but stern.

Levi sneered and pressed the blade harder against Erwin's neck, nicking the flesh. "What the fuck were you doing with that little girl, Erwin?"

His face fell and his eyes closed. He gave a heavy sigh, but Levi was not satisfied. "She's seventeen."

Levi barked out a laugh. "Don't try to fool me. I saw her! She couldn't have been more than thirteen. You're a sick fuck." Disgusted, Levi shoved the squad leader hard against the wall, then let go of him and took a few steps back.

"Do you want me to go get her and have her tell you herself?" Erwin asked with a laugh. "She's seventeen."

Despite Erwin's insistence on the girl's age, Levi still thought he was a pedophile. "Even if she is, she looks like she's thirteen. That's fucking sick."

To Levi's surprise, Erwin didn't try to defend himself. "I know." He lifted himself off of the wall and righted his clothes. "I can't resist her."

Levi grimaced once more, but replaced the knife. "I could ruin your entire life with what I know."

"You could."

Turning back to face Erwin once more, Levi arched one eyebrow. "What do I get in return for my silence?"

Erwin contemplated the request for a moment. "It's rumored that Commander Shadis is retiring to the Military Police sometime in the next year. When he does, I'll become the next Commander. I can install you as a Squad Leader at that point."

Levi considered the freedom he'd gain by being a squad leader and weighed that against the disgust he felt for what Erwin did in the Underground. "Deal."

"If this gets out, I'll send you back to the Underground," Erwin threatened, his eyes darkening with his seriousness.

Levi merely shrugged. "I won't say a word, but if you get caught, that's not on me." He didn't wait for Erwin's retort. Instead, he sprinted away, seeking a haven for the thoughts that had returned of his fallen comrades.

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Please let me know what you think!


	3. Hope

**A/N**: So this one is a little different from the other two in that it takes place during the happenings in the manga. So before you go further let me announce.

_**SPOILER ALERT. If you haven't read through chapter 65 of the manga, I'd suggest you don't read this!**_

But if you don't mind some spoilers, then by all means- read and enjoy!

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_Hope_: (noun) someone or something that may be able to provide help

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Elsie (After Wall Rose was "breached" by the Beast Titan; before Erwin's subsequent arrest)

* * *

Even with the fire stoked up to its fullest, she was still cold. Sitting on the wide ledge that surrounded the dancing flames, she wrapped her arms around herself. There were only a handful of patrons here today, and those that were present were more interested in the opium than they were the men or women strutting about. There were no crowds; there was no music. Ever since the imaginary breech in Wall Rose, business had taken a sharp decline. Too many people were afraid.

She stared into the flames, a little frown pulling her lips down. Miranda was gone, but she still wasn't free. She didn't know how to get out of the Underground, and she had nowhere to go. At least by staying here, she had the fire. She just wanted to be found. She longed for someone to rescue her from this dark place…

Where was Erwin? She huddled over, pulling up one of her knees and wrapping her arms around her leg. The promise he'd made rang in her ears. She knew him too well, though. It'd be months before he came back. Over the years, she'd figured out who he really was and what he did- riding out beyond the Walls and into Titan territory. It terrified her. She was always afraid for him, always terrified that she'd learn from another that he'd finally been eaten.

Information was just as valuable in the Underground as drugs or sex. If she'd had anyone to exploit, she'd have done whatever necessary to figure out where Erwin was right now, what he was doing. The problem was, no one was willing to part with their families or fortunes. She hadn't seen a client in almost a week. What little money she'd saved for herself was gone- spent on the overpriced food she needed to stay alive.

* * *

_He looked so nervous. Elsie gave him a small, practiced smile and gazed up at him from under her eyelashes as she'd been trained to do. He was fidgeting, shoving his hands in his pockets only to take them right back out again. She took one of his hands in hers. The size difference was enough to make her sigh in defeat._

_"Take care of him, Elsie," Miranda commanded with an imperious tone, waving the two of them away with one claw. Elsie nodded, curls bobbing around her ears. She tugged him along through the packed room, guiding him toward a couch on the back wall. When they reached it, she let go of his hand and looked him over once more. The thick, black wool coat and matching scarf were practical for the chilly air outside, but it was too warm for them down here. She lifted herself up on her toes and stretched her arms up, grabbing the ends of the scarf and unwrapping them before tossing it over her shoulder. She moved behind him and pulled off his coat, letting it drape over her arm._

_"Please," she said with the smile perfectly in place, "sit." He nodded once, dipping his head low. She brushed by him to lay the coat and scarf on the little table by the couch. She almost laughed when she looked back to him. Even though he was sitting, his back was perfectly straight and he wasn't relaxed at all. He wasn't used to this environment. "Wait here." He nodded, his fists bunched around his trousers just above his knees._

_She scurried over to the little bar. The woman serving the drinks gave her a cool, reproachful look. "What?" She put one hand on her hip. The slim black dress she was wearing was split all the way down to her navel. Every time she moved, Elsie felt sure it would move just a little too far._

_"I need a drink for the new one," Elsie stated with a sigh. "I guess Miranda didn't give him one."_

_"Sorry about that," Miranda called in a sing-song voice. She pranced over to them and draped one arm over Elsie's narrow shoulders. "You know that Emerald is my own. The one he brought will be Feather, apparently. Get him a drink, Charlotte." The last line was barked and sharp, directed towards the tart behind the bar. "Now Elsie, go make him comfortable." With a nod, Elsie took the full glass from Charlotte and returned to her new client. He hadn't budged._

_"Relax," she urged with a high-pitched, forced little giggle. She pressed on hand to his broad shoulder and forced him back. He sank into the cushions, but she could see the confusion in his intense blue eyes. The flimsy mask did little to hide his face. She sat down beside him, understanding that this particular client wasn't going to jump straight into things. Pressing the glass into his hand, she watched with narrowed eyes and he took a tentative sip. She giggled, a real one this time, at his cringe. "Drink it all at once. It goes down better." He took her advice and guzzled the rest. She couldn't help but watch as the Adam's apple in his throat moved with each mouthful. She was intrigued by him. To her knowledge, Emerald usually only brought boy-lovers. Since he was in her care, though, and not that of Richard or Mikael- or one of the older women- he must have liked little girls. She wanted to scorn and reproach him for his tastes, as she often did to all of her clients, but she refrained and practiced her smile instead._

_"Sorry," he muttered, looking down at the empty glass rather than at her. She was used to the men she serviced having no interest in her beyond her body- breasts, ass, legs, and even her feet. "Look, I..."_

_"Don't," she whispered. She brought one hand up to his face, her fingers caressing the well-defined square jaw bone. With gentle movements, she turned his face to hers and looked up into his eyes. Even sitting down, he was still much taller than she was. She lifted herself up a little and pressed her lips softly to his. He seemed a little surprised and taken aback, but didn't pull away. "If you want to talk, we'll talk. If you want to fuck, we'll fuck. I'm yours for as long as you're here, Feather." The look in his eyes is what stopped her from continuing the speech she'd been taught so long ago. He looked almost hurt, like she'd said something to offend him. But it was a sad sort of pain._

_"You don't look a day over twelve," he mused. That same sad expression reminded her of the self-loathing she often felt when she stared into the looking glass to fix her makeup._

_"I'm sixteen," she said with a sigh. "I have a... special client list because of my looks." He seemed to understand her meaning. The men that chose her wanted someone that looked young, but they also wanted the experience of someone older. The children often cried and screamed, as she once had. With her they didn't have to worry about tears. She always saved them for after they were gone._

_The drink was beginning to take its effect. He relaxed a little more. Some of the tension released from his shoulders. His eyes had lost some of their intensity. He was really looking at her now- studying every detail. She bent forward a little to take his glass, arching her back for him and trying to pose just a little. A part of herself hated that she did it without even thinking about it, but she'd done it so often... She slipped the glass from his fingers and, again as she turned to place the glass on the little table beside the couch, she arched her back, providing him with a nearly unobstructed view of her ass. As she spun to sit back beside him, she felt the tips of his fingers grazing the backs of her thighs. She should have asked if that's how he wanted her to stay, but he didn't know the rules of the game yet, so she kept it to herself. He was a big boy- if he thought he could play the game, he should know the rules, but she wasn't going to teach him._

_He pulled his hands back and kept them to himself for a moment. She took a moment too look him over properly. He was very tall... that much she'd noticed straight away, but now that she was really looking, he didn't look like a noble. He was too muscular, too well-defined. The thin cotton button-down shirt he wore had been designed for a slimmer man- one without such good muscle tone. His legs were long, and even though the slacks were a little too loose, she imagined the rest of him was just as muscular. She found it interesting that his light blue eyes had darkened ever so slightly as compared to before. Supposing it was the drink, she readjusted her position on the couch beside him so that her chest was just barely brushing against his arm._

_His eyes had finished studying her, and now they grazed over her perfectly done-up ringlets, ties into two sections on the top of her head. He reached up with the arm she wasn't pressed against and adjusted one of the little pink bows. She lowered her chin a little so that she was now looking up at him through her lashes. His own eyes narrowed just a little and he brought his hand down from her hair, stroking one of her cheeks with the back of his index and middle fingers. She leaned into the touch, encouraging him. Biting down on the edge of her bottom lip, she waited for his next move or word. This was his show to run, and she was required to do whatever he might want. It surprised her when he lowered his hand, brushing over her bottom lip with his thumb, pulling it out from under her teeth. She could see the tiny bit of paint he'd wiped away as he moved his hand back. It did not stay away. He brushed his fingers over her down her neck, across her bare shoulder, and down the top of her arm to her elbow. She gave him a small smile, trying her best to play her role. It was difficult to know what he wanted when he hadn't said hardly a word to her._

* * *

Elsie opened her eyes as the memory faded, and she went back to staring into the dancing orange flames. That first night, he'd just looked at her, touched her ever so gently, later admitting he liked how smooth and soft her skin was. She could remember the way he smelled- only a light scent of soap and the slightest hint of musk that wasn't unpleasant. Until she'd seen him again, he had filled her thoughts whenever she was giggling or smiling brightly for the other men, knowing what they wanted but confused about his motives. It all seemed so simple now- so many years after their first meeting.

Where was he now? Surely he was out fighting more Titans, trying his best on the operation to reclaim Wall Maria. If he succeeded in that goal, would she ever see him again? She thought not. Rather than reclaiming Wall Maria, the goal would expand into defeating all of the Titans and reclaiming the rest of the world for humanity. If anyone could manage it, she thought with a small smile, it was Erwin.

The papers all claimed that he and his long-distance scouting formation had been the key to saving so many lives... The papers didn't always tell the truth, but the level of optimism was hard to downplay when she wished for it to be true so badly. When he was out there battling Titans, did he ever think of her? Did he dream of holding her in his arms as often as she dreamt of being wrapped up in his? With a wistful sigh, she straightened and stretched.

There was a loud clatter from the stairs, and her attention turned to them. At first, she'd assumed one of the men high on opium had attempted to leave for home and had fallen down the stairs. What she saw instead made her eyes widen and her mouth gape. It was Erwin! He'd thrown open the door, and stood in the threshold, eyes glancing over the room- first going to her couch, then across the empty floor, and finally resting on her seated form by the fire. When their gazes locked, she was shaken from her shock. Leaping forward, she ran to him.

Before she touched him, just before she jumped into his arms, she realized that something was wrong. He only held out one arm for her. The other was hanging limply by his side. She narrowed her eyes, looking harder. There was no hand at the end of that sleeve. She brought both hands up to her mouth, covering it as it fell open. Tears sprang to her eyes. She found his and noticed the sad smile, not so unlike the one he'd worn the first time she'd met him. With slow and careful steps, she made her way closer to him. As she got within touching distance, one of her hands reached out tentatively, almost ready to touch the edge of his shoulder where the sleeve fell flat. She pulled her hand back before she got too close. The tears fell freely from her eyes and he stepped forward to wrap her in his single-armed embrace.

"It's okay," he muttered into her hair.

"I'm just so glad you're alive!" she sobbed, wrapping both of her arms around his waist and squeezing as hard as she could. She felt his light chuckle vibrate through his chest.

"Instead of having one foot in the grave, I've got one arm." She pulled away from him and punched him lightly in his chest.

"Don't joke like that! You... your arm... Oh Erwin..." She pressed herself back to his chest, burying her face there and sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her sobbing shoulders and just held her for a long moment. She couldn't help her relief- it was the reason for her tears. She wasn't sad that he'd lost an arm, she was glad that he'd managed to keep his _life_.

"We need to go," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "Come on." He was ever so gentle as he pushed her away. He reached up and tugged at the strings that held the simple gray cloak over the plain white shirt and dark slacks. He had some difficulty draping it over her shoulders, but she let him do it. She could see the determination in his eyes as he adjusted it around her and pulled up the hood, obstructing her view. She reached up to tie the strings, then latched onto his hand.

"Where?" she breathed. Her mind was too clouded with tumultuous emotions for her to process what he was really telling her.

"Topside." The word was said with a smirk and a light in his eyes that made her heart jump and race. He stepped to the side and brought her there with his arm wrapped tightly around her. He guided her up the stairs, catching her when she stumbled up the first few. She was still in the fog of confusion that had yet to clear up. She could only think about him- his arm wrapped so tightly and warmly against her, the cloak he'd draped over her, the way his eyes had lit up, that smirk that made her knees weak, and the fact that he was _alive_.

When they reached the top of the stairs and he opened the little door, she felt fear seize her. Her feet refused to go another step forward, and Erwin had to stop with her. She was frozen in place, unable to physically walk through the door that would lead her to the outside world for the first time in her entire life. Panic burned through her and she began to shake violently, her tears returning and spilling down her face as she blubbered incoherent words of mild protest. Erwin sighed and turned her to the side, crouching before her. Even when he knelt, he was still less than a head shorter than she was.

"Elsie," he stated calmly and sternly, "we need to go. Now. There isn't much time."

"But I _can't_," she insisted. "They'll… they…" She couldn't make her tongue or lips move to form the correct words. She was too frightened to even utter the possibilities aloud.

"Who?" Erwin asked, gripping her shoulder a little harder. "Elsie, they're all gone! Anyone who might want to stop you is too concerned with their own life at the moment- they are hiding away with their fortunes, counting on their money to protect their worthless lives. You _know_ that." She nodded once, sniffing and bringing up one hand to swipe at her tears. He gave her a small smile of encouragement. "Let's go outside, Elsie."

She let him push her through the open door, through the tiny space behind the shelf and into the narrow aisles of tall shelves. Hiding under his arm and the hood, he guided her through the store towards the front. A bright beam of brilliant light was shining across the floor, reflecting off of the glass panes in the shelves around her. She chanced looking up. A tiny man was standing by the door- he couldn't have been any taller than her. The hump on his back was large and grotesque, but that wasn't what drew her gaze. It was the image of the outside. Through the glass panes in the door, she could see the sidewalk and street- the people strolling to and fro. She gasped just a little and clutched Erwin even tighter.

"Your carriage is still waiting," the dwarfed, ancient man said up to Erwin in a strange accent she'd never heard before. The door was opened before them, and she was engulfed in the warm embrace of the sun's first light. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the smells of warm cakes and exotic teas, the steaming sidewalk baking in the sun after what must have been an earlier rain shower, adoring the way the sunlight warmed her skin, the way the faint breeze carried with it a gentle caress, and Erwin's strong, protective arm still wrapped over her shoulders, pressing her to his side.

He urged her along, somehow managing to lift her into the little carriage with just the one arm. He climbed in just behind her, and when he sat, pulled her into his lap. The door shut hard behind him, and he grabbed the back of her head, knocking back the hood. Throwing her arms around his neck, she met him for the hard and almost desperate kiss he needed to give and she wanted to accept. When it was finally over, he buried his face in her curls for a moment, just holding her as close to himself as he could.

She pushed her head up and stared at him with wide eyes, still shaded with uncertainty and confusion. He stared down at her. In the reflection of his bright blue eyes, she could see herself. Her eyes were red rings of blackened mascara that swam down her face in the snake-trails of tears. Her lipstick was smeared over the left side of her mouth. The blush she'd so carefully added hours before had worn away everywhere but the extreme edges of her round cheeks. The bows in her hair were askew, and one of the bundles of curls was lopsided.

"Where are we going?" she whispered.

"Wall Rose," he answered. He pressed his lips to her forehead once more. Using the end of the cloak, she carefully began to wipe away all of the smudged makeup. She was amazed by his difference in appearance out here where the light was bright. He looked tired and thinner than she'd ever seen. She reached up with one hand to brush over the light, five o'clock shadow. Despite his haggard appearance, she smiled up at him, tears brimming in her eyes once more.

Someone cleared their throat. Her head snapped to the side, curls smacking her face, and, she was sure, Erwin's chest. The dark-haired man seated on the opposite side of the carriage was deliberately boring holes into the corner of the floor by his seat. Unabashed, she returned her attention to Erwin, reached up, and kissed him once again. He gave her a small smile, then nodded at the other man.

"This is… Levi." She could see that there had been another word on his lips, but he'd decided against using it at the last minute. "He's agreed to help me get you somewhere safe for now."

Elsie frowned and sat up a little straighter. "Why?"

"Things are happening," Erwin stated, a frown tugging at his lips. "I hope that by the end of it, everything will be better, but until that time comes, I can't be certain. I have to make sure you are kept somewhere safe until I can come back for you."

"You're leaving me…" she whispered, her voice breaking, "again?" He nodded once and bowed his head, unable to meet her eyes. Forcing herself to keep her tears back, she took a deep breath. She pressed one of her small hands to his face and turned him back to look at her. There was pain in his eyes- a deep, resounding sadness that made her own chest ache. "I understand. Just promise me that you'll stay alive."

"Do you even realize just how hard it is to kill him?" the man named Levi remarked from his seat. She looked over at him and found him finally looking at her. His lips moved into a sneer and he turned his head away once more, this time his eyes staring at the small, plain roof, his arms crossed over his chest. "Erwin, you disgust me."

Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips opened to make a snappy retort, but Erwin laughed and she felt his chest moving with the force of it. "I know."

"That's hardly fair," Elsie muttered, crossing her own arms over her chest and puffing out her cheeks in a pout. Erwin's arm moved against her back. His elbow remained pressed into her back, keeping her upright, but his hand glided up her arm and over her shoulder, coming to a rest at her neck. His fingers spread wide, the tips pressing into her jaw and cheek, turning her head. He added the tiniest amount of pressure to her neck and kissed her deeply once more, drinking in her very soul and making her forget why she was supposed to be pouting.

"Get a room!" Levi barked, obviously annoyed. Again, Erwin laughed, his lips moving against hers and the sound reverberating through her core. "She looks like she's fourteen for fuck's sake!"

"I'm almost twenty-three, thank you," she remarked, breaking from Erwin's kiss just to smirk at the dark-haired man with satisfaction.

"Be nice," Erwin scolded playfully. "They'll be more time for this later." There was a promise in his tone that made her smile brightly up at him. "Why don't you look around outside?" She nodded once, admitting to herself the curiosity that burned within her. Climbing off of his lap, but keeping one hand behind her and on him at all times, she tugged back the little curtain over the window and peered out at the world she'd never seen before. With a gentle sigh, she touched the glass with her fingertips.

The landscape was beautiful. With the sun burning brightly over the buildings, the glass was all reflective and the people bustling around in the streets were magnificent to look at. The women wore elegant dresses and large hats while the men strutted about in fine suits. She wanted to reach out and touch it all, but when she glimpsed a man that reminded her of Emerald standing with a woman that looked entirely too much like Miranda, she frowned, and shrank back from the window. She didn't belong in this world of light and color and beauty. She would only taint it like she had Erwin.

Everything she touched became stained with her soiled prints. She couldn't blame herself for Erwin- not entirely. He'd come to her first. Through Emerald and Miranda, he'd sought her out and had become her favorite person in the entire world. However, the beautiful and serene outside world was not hers to ruin. It was perfect and pristine. She was soiled and corrupt. How could she ever hope to live outside and away from the Underground?

Erwin, through some sixth-sense he'd always seemed to possess, snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close once more. He left his hand on her stomach and she rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his. The rocking motion of the carriage, combined with her hunger and the depression that had suddenly engulfed her, made her tired. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. She curled around Erwin's one remaining arm and fell asleep with only the wish that he would return to her once more.

* * *

**A/N**: This one was a lot of fun to write, honestly. Most of my female characters tend to be strong (or at least pretend to be), so having a weak and dependent character was a refreshing change of pace I've enjoyed.

I really want to know what you think of this.

Don't just read it and leave it.

Review, people.

It may not seem like much, but it means the entire world to me.


	4. Indulgence

_Indulgence_: the act of doing something that you enjoy but that is usually thought of as wrong or unhealthy

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Miranda (before the fall)

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"Emerald!" she cried, a wide smile gracing her lips as she extended her arms. The man gave her a smirk and scooped her up in a tight embrace, kissing her hard, his mustache scraping over her face. Her hands expertly raked over his chest, unbuttoning the stiff jacket and loosening his tie in quick, precise moves. He didn't like to be kept waiting.

"I've brought you a new client," he growled into her ear. Her eyes popped open and found the nervous boy behind him, his narrowed eyes gazing through the crowds of writing bodies that twisted in obscene ways to grind along to the odd music she'd grown to enjoy. Releasing her, they stood straight, but she kept her hands on him. Emerald had brought her a lot of business over the years, and in return, she gave him special attention. He was her only steady client. Many of the others she only entertained long enough to find them someone else.

"Welcome to the Underground," Miranda chimed, tossing out one arm to gesture to the large room. His eyes met her for the first time, and she almost laughed. The boy was terrified, but excited. She looked up at Emerald and turned her head to the side to whisper in his ear. "Is this one into boys as well?" The clientele Emerald usually provided enjoyed the services of the few males she bothered to employ- just for their sake. Boys just weren't as popular. She normally found other tasks for them when their clients weren't due.

"No," Emerald replied. She could feel his mustache bristle over her cheek as he smiled. "Young girls. Not too young, mind you." Miranda nodded once, understanding the meaning.

"Perhaps Rima?" she asked, gesturing to one of the youngest girls in the room. The pretty brunette was tall for her age, but as flat-chested as they came. At only eleven, she'd shown promise for the future. Miranda could only hope the girl would grow into her body, though. If she didn't, Rima would have to be re-purposed.

Emerald shook his head. "The boy is… well, he's got an interesting mindset when it comes to the legalities of things." Miranda was silent for a moment, processing exactly what that sentence meant. Then she smiled and directed Emerald's attention to the adorable little blonde by the fire with a subtle gesture. "Perfect." The growled word in her ear sent shivers down her spine.

"Elsie!" Miranda sang, waving the girl over to them. Her perfect little ringlets bounced as she trotted over to them, skirts rippling with the movements. Miranda looked back up to Emerald, then over at the boy. "What is our new friend's name?"

"Feather," was the grunted response. She felt his hands wandering over her back, down over her ass, and squeezing. She gave him a devilish little smile and could hardly process her duties as Mistress.

"Take care of him, Elsie," Miranda said, realizing she probably sounded far too imperious, but decided it didn't matter. She had more important things to attend to. She waved them away and devoted her full attention to Emerald. "Shall we go sit?"

He chuckled and nodded, grabbing a fistful of her ass and lifting her up to ensnare her mouth in his rough and demanding kiss. He was never gentle with her, but she didn't want him to be. They'd found their matches in each other. He was dominating and controlling, rough- but never to the point of causing her lasting damage. She drank in every moment of sweet, delicious pain he provided, enjoying receiving and acting on his commands rather than running the show as she usually did. He lowered her back to the floor, but kept his fingers tight on her skin, digging deep. They moved for her secluded corner and the little hidden door that would take them to her private room.

As the only client who'd ever stepped foot in said room, the others knew he was important as well. They parted for them and jealous whispers followed behind. Miranda never showed anyone else such special treatment, and those that fancied themselves in love with her were horribly disappointed. Emerald released her when they reached the darkened corner, and she reached up to slip the jacket from his shoulders and pull the tie from his neck. She placed them carefully out of harms' way and bent to give him one more kiss.

His calloused hand snaked into the split over her thigh and grazed over the tender skin where her stockings were held up by thin garters. Fingers grazing up and over her most sensitive of areas, she gave him an excited little moan and breathed hot and heavy on his ear. She nibbled at it for just a second, then stood upright and stepped back.

"Let me get your drink," she said with a coy, devilish smile. He nodded once and relaxed back into the plush cushions, placing his elbows along the back of the couch and resting his left ankle on the top of his right knee. She blew him a little kiss, then snaked over the floor to the bar.

"I need a drink for the new one," the petite and adorable little blonde said, looking defeated before the night had even truly begun. "I guess Miranda didn't give him one."

It was little comments like that that made her want to strike the petulant little bitch, but she restrained herself and put on her fake personality as well as she could. Emerald always managed to shake her out of it, her true nature revealing itself in his presence and his alone.

"Sorry about that," she said, making it a little song and dragging out her vowels. Lifting herself up just a little to walk on her toes, she stopped just behind Elsie and draped one arm around her. This was the easiest way to control her impulse to harm the girl. Feeling how fragile the tiny whore was gave her a sense of power- a knowledge of just how easy it would be to snap her skinny neck. "You know Emerald is my own," she stated, reminding both girls of how important her singular client was. "The one he brought will be Feather, apparently." She looked over at the tall redhead behind the bar and her eyes narrowed. "Get him a drink, Charlotte." She hoped her tone was enough of a reminder to the smart-mouthed girl-turned-woman not to disobey her again. "Now Elsie, go make him comfortable."

She watched the girl nod with a small frown and take the glass from the woman behind the bar. Miranda gave Charlotte one last reproachful look. Charlotte lowered her head with a bitter frown and clenched fists. Triumphant in succeeding in her goal to remind the ginger-haired woman why she was stuck behind the bar in the first place, her smile returned and broadened. "Get me something for Emerald, too. I can't keep him waiting." Although as she said the words, she was tempted to make him do just that. The anticipation of the pain she would feel from his wrath excited her and made her shift her weight from one foot to the other rapidly.

Drink in her hand at last, she pranced back over to the waiting Emerald, noting the dark look in his shadowed eyes. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips as she came to a stop just before him. He took the drink she presented and sipped on it for a moment, simply staring at her. She sank down onto the couch by his side and his free hand drifted over her shoulder to her neck, caressing the soft flesh just below her ear. She sighed, enjoying the light touch. Anticipation at the coming evening, full of passion and rough sex, made her squirm in her seat beside him. She rubbed against him and he chuckled at her, taking another sip of his drink.

"Eager, are we?" he mocked. He knew what he did to her. His arrogant look of total control over her pleasure only served to make her heart rate increase. Another sip, and he nuzzled his nose to her ear. "Patience." She gave a slightly annoyed sigh and nodded once, forcing herself to remain still. Despite the fear she'd instilled in her girls (and boys), she knew if they saw her so totally enslaved to this one man's touch they'd lose all respect for her. She forced herself to glance out at the room, taking not of each of her people and their clients. This was her typical job, ensuring the satisfaction of her guests.

At last, Emerald finished the drink in his hand. She slipped the glass from his fingers and set it to the side. He stood and pulled her along with him, and she opened the door to the room she called her own. When the door shut behind them, drowning out most of the sounds and smells of the other room, she felt her excitement increase tenfold. This was _her_ moment of pure bliss, _her_ joy at seeing on particular person, _her own_ night of indulgence that every client came to achieve.

* * *

Thanks to MercedesCarello for all of the great reviews, and to the mysterious "Guest"!

Reviews are important.

I live for them.

They make my entire day a million and a half times better.

Don't read and leave.


	5. Smut

_Smut_: (noun) obscene language or matter

* * *

Erwin and Elsie (before Erwin's conversation with Pixis about overthrowing the monarchy; after he goes to the Royal Capitol)

* * *

**WARNING:**

**ADULT CONTENT**

_Do not read this chapter if you're easily offended._

(I'm not even joking.)

This chapter contains adult situations and content.

* * *

**A/N: **Seriously, guys, take my warning to heart. This is rated "M" for a reason, and that reason is right fucking here. (God I love puns.)

Enjoy the ride. ;)

* * *

It took some maneuvering, but when they reached the small farming village in the rolling plains behind Wall Rose, Erwin managed to lift Elsie with his single arm and carry her out of the carriage and into the little house that was separated somewhat from the rest of the village. He crossed the grassy yard as she slept soundly, her head resting on his shoulder. Levi was nice enough to open the door for him, seeing as how he couldn't do it himself, but he'd vanished back outside at the earliest possible second.

"I'm going back to headquarters to make sure Hange hasn't killed Eren yet," Levi stated just before closing the door.

Erwin nodded. "Thank you." There was no sign of acknowledgement, but he knew Levi had heard his appreciation.

He carried Elsie up the stairs to one of the two bedrooms located on the upper level. With slow and careful movements, he knelt down and placed her on the bed that rested in the center of the room, pressed against the wall opposite the door directly between two large windows. A small dresser with a mirror sat against the wall to the right; a large oak wardrobe rested to the left of the bed, one door open to reveal various dresses in many different colors and styles. As he stood back up, she stirred, curling up and wrapping her arm around the pillow at her head. He smiled down at her when she didn't wake, brushed one loose curl away from her face, then left the room.

This singular afternoon and night had to be perfect for her. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get to see her again after his plans were set into motion. The revolution he was planning might not go the way he'd planned, and even if it did, dealing with the repercussions of his actions wasn't going to be an easy task. He had spent weeks getting the timeline of events perfect for this moment. If all was going according to Levi's and Hange's plans, they were experimenting with Eren right now.

His left hand reached up to his right shoulder, holding the throbbing stump. Watching Elsie cry had hurt far worse than the Titan eating his arm- which, if he was honest, hadn't hurt nearly as much as he'd expected. He knew she hadn't been crying for his lost arm. She'd been relieved that he was still alive. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his hand and walked back down the stairs. His stomach twisted with wrenching pain. Would he ever get to see her again after tonight?

Over the last six years, he'd gone to see her each and every time he returned from an expedition- either beyond Wall Maria or towards it. Nothing could keep him from her. The day he'd awoken in the infirmary, he'd felt horribly guilty and miserable for not going to her. After he'd learned all of the refugees from Wall Rose had been forced into the Underground, he was instantly worried that she'd been caught up in the riots. He'd looked over every visible inch of her in the carriage and was relieved that she didn't appear bruised or otherwise injured. She looked thinner than before, though, the laces on her corset holding the pieces together over her back were longer and the space of skin that showed significantly smaller.

At the foot of the stairs, he turned to his right and pushed open the swinging kitchen door. Everything had been left exactly as he'd asked. There was plenty of food piled around the cellar doors, the dishes were stacked neatly in the cupboard, and everything was spotlessly clean. He grabbed the kettle and filled it with water first, then sat it on the edge of the vast fireplace before stoking up the dying embers and adding more wood. Adjusting to completing such simple tasks with a single arm was frustrating. What he'd been able to do in just a few short moments before, now took more than twice as long. When at last the fire was built up and burning strong, he grabbed the kettle and placed it on the little hook over the fire.

He stepped over to the small four-person table just a short distance from the hearth and sat in one of the chairs, gazing into the flames. What could he possibly expect from bringing Elsie here? He would know she'd be safe- unless the Titans breached Wall Rose again- and relatively well cared-for. This place was his own, an inheritance from his father, though few people knew of its existence or location. Whenever he had time to spend away from the headache that was dealing with the Survey Corps and the rest of the military and government, he'd always found solace here in this lonely house. A woman he employed kept the place clean while he was away, but he'd had little interaction with her once he joined the Cadets. She'd keep food in the house, as well, but he smiled at the thought of her arriving one day to see find Elsie there. Erwin remained lost in his thoughts for a while, just letting Elsie sleep.

* * *

She woke alone. Lifting her head, she gazed around the bright room. The sun was beaming in through the two windows flanking either side of the bed. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then stretched and yawned. Where was this place? Everything was pristine, neatly arranged and free of any traces of dust or cobwebs. The little dresser had a beautiful mirror edged in what looked to be a hand-carved oak frame. She had an appreciation for nice things. Never being able to possess anything finer than the dress she worked in and gazing at the fine possessions of the clientele that came through on a daily basis, she often found herself mildly envious. She stepped over to the mirror and frowned at her reflection. Her hair was a mess- falling out of the two perfect pigtails and many of the curls hanging in her face. All of her makeup was smeared and streaked. She turned away from the ugly girl in the mirror and wandered over to the big wardrobe on the opposite wall.

She reached out and touched the fine, soft fabrics of the dresses hanging on one side. Unable to resist the burning curiosity that filled her, she pulled open the other side and found it just as full, but with what she recognized from the newspapers as uniforms from the Survey Corps. A few other shirts, like the ones Erwin wore to see her in, split the two sections in half. Tears sprang to her eyes and she bit her bottom lip.

The sound of running water distracted her from the pang of utter despair that pierced her chest like a blade used to kill Titans. She dried her eyes with her fingers and stepped over to the partially open door. She opened it a little wider and found a spotless, bare hallway. To her left was the end and a set of stairs. To her right lay another door on the opposite side of the hall and an open door at the end. She could see Erwin's back, bent over what looked like an old claw-foot tub. As if he sensed her staring at him, he looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a sort of half-smile.

"Come here," he said, standing up. She obeyed, but still felt the threat of tears stinging in her eyes. He saw this, and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Why did you bring me here?" she whispered. She couldn't keep her eyes on his, though, and looked down at his chest. She brought her arms up to wrap around herself, trying to keep herself from shaking. "I don't… I don't belong here…"

He brought his hand to her chin and lifted her head so that he could catch her eyes once more. "What are you talking about?"

She cursed herself internally. She should have known better. Most of the men who came to the Underground were married and had children and successful lives Topside. What made him any different? She'd just assumed because he'd never mentioned having to return to a person, only to his duties. "Is she just gone for the day, or were you planning to introduce us?" Her tone was hateful, biting. She watched his eyes flash with confusion, and then as understanding settled over his expression.

He grinned, then laughed. Moving his hand, he wrapped his arm around her and brought her close to his chest in a warm embrace that she wanted no part of. She couldn't make herself pull away from him though. "You silly little girl," he muttered into her hair. "The only other woman that comes to this house is Tilly, whom I employ to keep it clean and stocked with food for when I come to visit. And she's not due back for another week."

She lifted her head to look up at him, a little frown pulling at her lips. "But… those dresses…"

"Are yours," he said softly. He bent down and kissed her frown away. When he pulled away from her, he had a small smile on his face. "You can't go prancing around in that get-up all the time." Shock settled over her like a thick blanket, weighing her down. He gestured towards the tub behind him that was over half-way full. "I thought you might like a bath before dinner."

"Dinner?" she asked, her eyes flashing back up at him. He nodded once. "But… You cook?"

Again, he nodded. "If I ever wanted to eat anything other than field rations or the slop from the mess hall, I had to learn at some point." He chuckled at her shocked expression, then took her shoulder and turned her around so that her back was to him. She stood perfectly still as his fingers brushed over her bare spine. He found the ends of the laces that held her corset tight and pulled at the knots. He took his time as he pulled the strings loose, one section at the time. She pressed her hand to her chest to keep the corset in place, but did not complain. Getting it off on her own was a difficult task to manage.

Once the very top set of crossed leather cords had been loosened, his fingers slipped inside of the thick fabric that was the inside of her corset and grazed over her skin. He did not linger there. Instead, his palm found her bare hip and slipped under the waistband of her skirt. He found the three buttons on the side and unfastened them. The crinolines that kept the skirt fluffed up were all connected in one elastic band that rested just underneath the main skirt. She offered one of her own hands in assistance as he tugged both layers down over her hips. As the skirts fell to the floor, she let the corset fall as well. He took her hand and she stepped out of all of the fabric bunched at her feet before kicking it all to the side. All that remained was the black scrap of lace around her neck, the two black bows in her hair, her stockings, and her shoes.

He pulled at the little bow of lace round her neck and let it slip to the floor. He then guided her toward a little stool beside the tub and sat her down on the worn cushion. She did not speak as he pulled the pins expertly from her hair, followed by the bands that held it up. She sat with her arms crossed over her bare chest, just staring at the floor. What did all of this mean for her? He'd taken her from the Underground and brought her to this pretty little house in what had looked like beautiful countryside from the windows in the bedroom. He'd just told her those dresses in the wardrobe hanging next to his own things were _hers_. He'd drawn this bath for her and then he was going to cook her a meal. It all seemed entirely too good to be true, like a magnificent dream she was sure she would wake up from at any moment.

When all of her hair fell down around her face, he crouched on the ground in front of her, slipping off each of her shoes before pulling the dark stockings down and casting everything into the pile by the door. She peered into his soft blue eyes and found a certain sadness in them that she understood all too well. He caressed her cheek with his hand, kissed her once on the forehead, then stood and turned off the water before it overfilled the tub.

"Take as long as you like," he told her, stepping towards the door. "There are towels behind you. Put on whatever you'd like when you're done and come downstairs. The kitchen is to the right." With that, he was gone, off down the hall. She listened to his footsteps as he took each stair down to the lower level. Once she could no longer hear him, she stood and grasped the edge of the tub before stepping in.

The steaming water was almost too hot, but she sank down into it and sighed. The water felt amazing compared to her usual cold showers. She dipped under the water completely, massaging her fingers into her scalp. When she emerged from the water, she looked for soap. There was a small stand next to the faucet with various bottles on top of it- all but one looked unused. She stared at each label carefully, discerning shampoos from soaps, and smelled each one. There were two bottles- one soap, one shampoo- that smelled like the vanilla and honey she typically used. They were subtler, smoother scents, though, and she poured a liberal amount into her hand for her hair.

She took a long time, scrubbing her hair and her body thoroughly. It was only once she realized that the sun had fallen much farther in the sky and the water had lost the majority of its warmth that she got out of the tub and crossed the rug-covered floor to retrieve a towel. She made sure to unplug the tub before wrapping yet another towel around her hair and gathering her clothes from the floor. Making her way to the bedroom, she paused by the other door, curious at what lay behind it. She didn't open it, though. There would be time for that later.

Her clothes wound up in a new pile beside the wardrobe, and for once in her life she did not bother to hang them all up neatly. Instead, she dug through the drawers in the dresser and pawed through the dresses hanging in the wardrobe. She thought they were all beautiful, but she didn't want to sully them. Her hand passed over one of Erwin's shirts a few times, admiring the fine, dark blue silk. She thought back to what he'd told her- she could wear whatever she liked, right? A devious grin in place, she slipped the shirt off of the hanger and pulled it on, doing most of the buttons wrong on her first try. The second time, she started from the bottom and matched each button with its appropriate hole, but left the top three undone. The hem of the shirt fell almost to her knees and the sleeves were far too long. She make careful folds in the sleeves until they were just below her elbows.

Deciding she was decent enough for an evening alone with Erwin, she gazed in the mirror one last time, and for once, she smiled. Her makeup was long gone, her hair fell in limp curls over her shoulders and down between her shoulder blades. She was without costume or air of fake personality. At this moment, she was herself and nothing more. It was freeing to be rid of the dresses and perfumes and ribbons- to not have half a dozen men to cater to, prance around for, and pose for. The day she'd taken on her role as the Lolita of Miranda's Underground den, she'd almost put a complete stop to anything more than kissing and men grabbing handfuls of her ass. Her days of being a toy to abuse by men had become a thing of the past, and she'd felt a little better about herself. Then she'd met Erwin, and she'd broken her own rules.

Now, standing before the mirror in only Erwin's blue silk shirt, she felt as if she were a totally different person- as if her past belonged to the girl she'd been before Erwin had taken off the dress piled against the wall in the corner. She gave a final smile to the new person staring back at her in the mirror, then turned to leave the room.

* * *

When he heard Elsie's footsteps on the stairs, he smiled to himself. She'd come down at exactly the right time. He pulled pan holding the roast out of the fire and left it on the hearth for a moment. He hoped she'd like it. Honestly, he didn't know if she'd ever had meat- especially such a rare cut of beef. Turning to face her as the door opened, he froze for a moment. Rather than choosing one of the dresses he'd had Tilly bring for her yesterday, or one of the night shirts, she was wearing one of his own shirts- a personal favorite as one of the few he'd had tailored perfectly to fit him. The hem sank to just above her knees and she'd rolled the sleeves up to her elbows; it fell around her, over large. She was beautiful.

He'd always thought she was pretty, adorable in her own right. The costume she wore had always added to her little-girl charm- part of what attracted him to her in the first place. The way she stood before him, though, dressed in his shirt, no makeup and hair down, he felt as if he'd never even really looked at her before. She hadn't lost the girlish charm- it had increased tenfold. She looked young enough to be his daughter. A not-unpleasant feeling of arousal washed over him and he was forced to shift his weight to avoid any pain.

"Is this okay?" she asked, gesturing to the shirt. Her almond-shaped, creamy coffee-colored eyes peered up at him, a little worried. He nodded once and swallowed hard. A breathtaking smile broke out over her face and he couldn't help but stand and move towards her. As he did so, he knocked over the pan resting on the hearth, and it clattered to the floor. He was too flustered by Elsie to react properly, though, and failed entirely at his attempt to catch the pan. Elsie had gasped and jumped back a little. Now she stepped closer.

He looked up at her, devastated by the sight of the roast splattered over the stone floor at her feet. She gave him a small frown, but her lips twitched up in to a small smile. She lifted her hands to cover her mouth, but a giggle escaped, and then another, until she was openly laughing. It was contagious, and eventually, he chuckled along with her. Despite his best efforts to make things perfect for her, she'd not only chosen to wear one of his shirts rather than the things he'd bought, and now, he'd just ruined the dinner he'd made for the special occasion.

He held out his arm to her and she stepped around the mess on the floor, her bare toes keeping her out of its reach. She threw her arms around his waist and he wrapped his around her back. He lifted her a little and moved them backwards toward the little table. She let him go as he sat, then threw her arms around him once more- at his neck this time- and kissed him hard.

She pulled away after a short moment and grinned. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, eyebrows raised. He reached up to brush a few of her wet curls away from her face.

"For everything," she whispered. "Even if dinner is now on the floor- thank you for trying. I've never had anyone do these kinds of things for me." He gave her a small smile and pressed his forehead to her shoulder.

"I just wanted you to have a good night," he admitted softly. He didn't want to bring up the fact that he had to leave her yet again. At some point, he'd have to confess that to her, but not now. Not when he felt so vulnerable.

"It's already wonderful." The tender words breathed into his ear made him look up. Why was it that there had been tears in her eyes all day? How could he make them go away? Those sparkling gems of liquid caused an ache in his chest that he had no words to describe. What did he have to do to keep them at bay? From happiness or sadness, he didn't want to see her cry anymore. He reached up and used his thumb to brush the tears from her right eye. She copied his action with her own left hand and eye.

"Let's find something else to eat," he suggested. She gave him a smile and a nod and stepped back away from him so that he could stand.

* * *

Dinner with Erwin hadn't been what he'd tried so hard for, but it was still the most wonderful meal of her life. Although it was nothing more than a couple of cold sandwiches, she felt as if she were eating a feast with the King himself for the way Erwin was treating her. She was certain that he'd caught her when she was staring at the fire, thinking of him having to leave yet again. It was unavoidable, but she had resolved herself to accept it and just enjoy the brief moment of time she had to spend with him. When she came down the stairs earlier, she'd sworn to herself to keep her happy face on and push away all thoughts of loneliness or the future. After that slip-up, she'd redoubled her efforts. To her, it seemed to work. Erwin was smiling back at her, even if she could detect the sadness in his eyes every once in a while.

When she'd eaten her fill, she finished off the little cup of tea and sat back in her chair. She enjoyed watching Erwin eat. His eyes almost never left hers. Even though he only had his left arm to work with now, he'd adapted quickly. She knew she wouldn't have adjusted so quickly to life without one of her arms. It was still a little strange, seeing the part of him missing. She couldn't think of him as handicapped or unable, though- if anything, he appeared more tenacious to do certain things. Simple tasks, like cutting the bread for their sandwiches, were now much harder, but he'd knit his eyebrows together and concentrate until he managed. She didn't pity him- not in the least. She admired him even more.

Was she going to remain here when he left once more, or was he going to take her somewhere else? She watched his jaw moving as he chewed the last bite of his food. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her kneecaps. His brows lowered and pulled together as he studied her. She gave him a little smile. He stood and gathered her plate, setting it on top of his. While he moved around in the kitchen, she looked to her left. The light from the fire had been supplemented by a few gas lamps: one on the right side of the swinging kitchen door, one over the sink that rested farther down that wall, and two that hung over each side of the cellar door on the opposite side of the kitchen. Those lights were the only source of illumination now that the sun had finally set. The big window over the table faced east, so it would be wonderfully bright once morning came, but for now, she stared out at the dim, gray-blue of the sky that was twilight.

The dishes clattered as he put them in the sink, and she lifted her head, then rested her right temple on her knees to watch him. He'd scraped the last bits of her food into an old, shallow tin bowl. He placed the bowl on the small chest beside the sink. Next, he grabbed a towel and pulled the grate around the fire from both sides. As soon as he was finished with this task, she lifted her head. What were they going to do next? He seemed to have the evening planned so nicely up until now, but she was tempted to disrupt whatever additional plans he might have.

She stood when he stepped out of the kitchen carrying the little tin bowl. She heard the door open and listened to his footsteps. Just moments later, he was back inside of the kitchen- sans bowl. He'd done the dawn earlier when he was cleaning up the roast. He'd explained that there were a few stray cats that liked to roam around. Uncurling her limbs, she stared up at him, careful to keep her expression from betraying her intentions. He moved closer to her and she took his hand. Being too short to have her way from the floor, she stepped up into the low seat of the chair- making her just a little taller than him.

His eyes were confused for a moment, but the corners of his lips were still turned up in a small smile. She pulled her hand from his, wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him. The singular tender kiss became more as he moved his lips hard against hers, and she retaliated with equal, if not greater, force. One of her hands came up, sliding over his spine and up his neck, her fingers raking through the hair at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful. She pressed herself against his chest, using his gasp of surprise as she pulled his hair as entrance to his mouth. With a slight smirk, she scooped her tongue upwards and licked the roof of his mouth. His shudder was immediate. With his left arm wrapping tightly around her waist, he lifted her up a little, then moved back a step and sat her on top of the table.

Now that she was, once again, shorter than him, she pulled her hands away, but they did not sit idle. Sliding her fingers up over his chest, feeling each muscle rippling below her fingers, she made her way to the buttons at his collar. In no time flat she had the top three undone, but before she could move to the fourth, his hand caught hers and he broke their kiss. Staring up into his eyes, she cocked her head to the side, wondering why he'd stopped her.

"Not here," he almost growled. The words sent shivers down her spine and she swallowed hard. His thumb finger brushed over the lip she was biting as he caressed her face and pulled it from her teeth. He bent down to kiss her hard once more, then pulled away. Taking her hand, he helped her jump down from the table onto the floor. "Come on."

Her excitement grew for each step they took closer to the bedroom. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, she thought she might explode if she didn't get to wrap her arms around him in the next ten seconds. He was horrible, though, and kept her at arms' length until they were in the room she'd woken up in a few hours ago. Tugging her across the floor, he turned and sat on the bed before her, finally pulling her forward and holding her close as he lifted his head to kiss her. The low bed made it easy for her to stand about as much over him as she had when she was in the chair in the kitchen. She wrapped one arm around his neck and her other hand slipped inside the top of his shirt, gliding over his shoulders and down to his back, her fingers dancing over each muscle as it tensed and relaxed. His own hand slid up from her waist, then back down and over her ass, around to her hip, and across her thigh.

Her lips burned for more of him, but he pulled away from her lips, kissed her jaw line over to her ear, then found the spot just behind her ear at her hairline that made her knees give in when he nibbled at the tender flesh. He had to move his arm back to her waist to catch her as she fell, and her arms tightened around him, holding on with all of her strength. She could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle in his chest. He moved down, licking, kissing and biting gently at different places on her neck as he did so. She shook where she stood, her heart pounding in her chest with rapid, shallow breaths. Right where her neck and collarbone met, he bit down harder and she gasped, pressing her chest even harder to his as her head fell to the side to give him more access.

Grabbing her waist a little tighter, he moved her over to his right leg and brought her down to sit. She now sat a little lower than his head, but he bent his neck and went after the side of hers he hadn't yet touched. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, half distracted by the sharp nips he was leaving in a trail down to her shoulder. When she reached the bottom of his shirt, she spent an extra moment fighting with the fastening to his trousers, but the moment they were open and he was free, her hands moved back up, over his abdominals and up to his pectorals, catching one of his nipples with a short fingernail. He sank his teeth into harder on her shoulder harder than all of the other little bites. She gave a little cry of pleasure at the surprising pain that sent a hot bolt of electricity down her spine and straight to her core. She arched her back and pushed at his shirt, trying to rid him of it.

The moment her fingers grazed the bandages that still covered what was left of his right arm and wrapped up to his shoulder, she stopped for a moment. That half of his shirt had fallen away. Erwin lifted his head and she felt him watching her as she raked her fingers over the tightly-wound bandages. She leaned over and kissed his shoulder over the white gauze.

* * *

The moment she'd kissed his right shoulder, the phantom pains that had been plaguing him for the last hour seemed to peter out into nothingness. He could only watch her as she brought one of her hands over to the bandages once more and rubbed the area ever so gently, moving to the back of his shoulder, and pressing her fingers a little harder into the ever-tense muscles. She'd done that before, back when he'd returned after the Trost gate was demolished and they'd finished with the Titan clean-up. Seeing all of those freshly- graduated dead recruits and Garrison soldiers had shaken him down to his core, and he hadn't been able sleep a wink until he'd gone to see her. He hadn't said a word to her about what happened, but he knew she often persuaded some of her other clients to bring her newspapers and assumed she'd read about it. He hadn't been able to say much of anything, but she'd climbed up onto the back of the couch and draped both of her legs around him. Then, she'd started rubbing his back. It had been gentle, and almost frustrating at first, but then she'd started with those magical little fingers of hers, his tension had melted away like a slow drip from a leaky faucet. She'd kept it up for well over an hour, and eventually, it put him to sleep. When he'd woken, he'd looked up, finding his head on her lap and her just running her fingers through his hair with a little smile of satisfaction.

Her actions now had a similar effect, but rather than a satisfaction in her smile, he saw sadness that hit him with an icy spike straight to his gut. Tonight was supposed to be for _her_. He wanted to give her everything- at least for tonight. He didn't know if he'd ever get the chance to again. The total uncertainty that clouded the immediate future unnerved him. He always tried to plan for the absolute worst. Most of the time his contingency plans were unnecessary, but unexpected things _did _happen- like losing his arm. He'd never expected that. His life, sure, but never just one part of him. Rather than fulfilling what had seemed like such simple plans for the evening, he'd botched nearly everything. The guilt ate at him from the inside.

Her eyes caught his, flashed with confusion for a moment, then settled into a hard look of understanding and... was that anger? She brought both of her hands up to his face and held his cheeks, pulling his head down just slightly so that they were eye-to-eye.

"Stop that," she said. Her voice was soft, but her tone was demanding. He couldn't deny the sudden and unexpected spark of arousal that the words caused. "No guilt. Not tonight. Save it for tomorrow." Her lips brushed against his once, then she pulled back to look at him again. That spark had started a fire in his belly, and the flames only grew as he became more and more aware of her. One of her breasts was still pressed to his chest; her ass- while wonderfully toned- dug into his thigh; the shirt of his she wore was falling off of one shoulder, revealing more of her milky-white skin; her damp curls framed her round face, accentuating her plump, full bottom lip and her big eyes.

His anxieties and worries for the near future fell away, replaced with lust and desire for the tiny woman pressed so sensually against him. He bent forward and kissed her again- hard and demanding. He wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her neck and press her even closer at that moment, but without one of his arms, he had to sacrifice that desire to acquiesce the other. His left hand slid up her thigh, under the hem of the shirt she wore, over her ass, and up to her hip. He found the sensitive bundle of nerves just behind her protruding hip bone and pressed his thumb into it hard, making her jump and shudder and give a high pitched moan into his mouth. She pushed at the shirt on his left shoulder and it fell down, the sleeve catching at his forearm. He pulled his arm away from her long enough to jerk it off and away, then grabbed her waist and shifted her onto the bed with ease. He shifted her so that she was in the center of the wide bed, then forced her onto her back with his palm against her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him, but moved where he wanted her all the same.

The moment she was on her back, he grabbed the end of the shirt and pulled it up high, over her thighs, hips, stomach, and each visible rib to her small but full breasts. He bent over her, grabbing one of the luscious breasts and pulled her little button-sized nipple into his mouth. Remembering how she'd reacted when he'd bitten her shoulder far harder than he'd intended, he decided to grab the tiny pink bud between his teeth. Her reaction was instant and he smirked. Back arching, gasping, thrusting her breasts even higher in the air, and her thighs grabbing for him, he sucked the sensitive bit of flesh hard. She grabbed at his neck and his left shoulder, digging her nails into his skin and trying to force him even closer. He denied her, though, and released her nipple with a final teasing flick of his tongue. He glanced up at her and found fire in her eyes.

He reached up and grabbed each of her wrists with his left hand and pulled them away from his back. Moving them high above her head, all the way to the edge of the mattress, he looked down into her eyes once more. "Stay there." She nodded once and when he let go, he watched her arms turn so that she could grip the edge of the bed to keep herself in place. He moved his hands to her shirt, pulling it down a little so that he could reach the buttons. With little effort- even with only one hand- he had the shirt open around her in just a few seconds. He knelt over her, just watching as her chest heaved with her shallow breaths. Lifting his hand, his fingers danced over her breast, teasing her nipple with a light pinch that elicited the sweetest moan, down over her ribs and over her hip, finding her warm center and teasing her with the lightest of touches. He moved his hand away and she gave a frustrated sigh that made him chuckle. Pressing his hand into the bed by the slight curve in her waist, he lowered himself so that he hovered over her. He kissed her hard and was surprised that she still kept her hands above her head. He didn't remain at her lips, but kissed and bit and sucked on the skin of her throat, then down to the breast he'd failed to tend to earlier. Her sighs and moans, soft and pleading, made him smirk and continue lower, kissing each of her ribs that became even more visible when she would finally suck in a deep breath of air. He stopped to nibble on her hip bones, drawing out even more sighs and moans.

It was when he moved between her thighs and his tongue found the hot, sticky, and sweet little round ball of nerves that her hips bucked, pressing his face deeper and her thighs squeezed the sides of his head, her heels crossing over his back and trying even harder to draw him farther in. She gave a strangled cry when he placed his lips around the engorged piece of flesh and sucked it into his mouth through his teeth. He couldn't help but chuckle at the hot juices of her orgasm hit his chin. He drew back and when he looked at her face, her eyes were nearly rolling into the back of her head and her teeth had dug into her bottom lip with enough force to turn the area around them white.

* * *

She felt him lift away and heard him shuffling a bit on the floor, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his trousers and shorts, she imagined. She could do little other than lay there for a moment. The sheer force of that ultimate moment of pleasure had been unexpected and had come faster than she thought possible. Her heart rate slowed by degrees and her breathing began to even out. When she finally tilted her head to look over at Erwin, he was already climbing back onto the bed. He left a trail of wet kisses over her calf, thigh, hip, ribs, breast, shoulder, and neck before finally meeting her lips once more. His elbow sank into the bed beside her; his chest was pressed to hers, but the majority of his weight rested in his arm.

Her mouth and throat felt dry for a moment, but she licked her lips anyway. He pressed his lips gently to hers and it was maddeningly frustrating. Every time she lifted her head to press her lips harder to his or any time she tried to dart her tongue between his teeth, he would pull just far enough so that he was out of her reach. She shimmed down just a little, stretching her arms as far as they would go. She could feel him pressed hard against the inside of her thigh. She tried wriggling her hips so that he would be closer to her entrance, but her efforts failed and he just smirked down at her.

His teasing drove her crazy, but just she opened her mouth to complain, he shifted and arched his back, finding her center and entering her in one swift move. She cried out, loud enough for a slight echo in the nearly-bare room; her eyes squeezed shut. He held still for a long moment. When he didn't move again, she opened her eyes and stared up at him. He was gazing at her hard, eyebrows drawn together in a deep wrinkle over his nose, studying her face and eyes. She brought one of her legs up over his hip and shifted a little, giving him a small smile for encouragement. He pulled away slowly and moved forward again just as slowly. Biting down on her lip, she looked up at him and lifted her hips a little, drawing him in. Her hands held the edge of the bed in a white-uncle grasp and he began again.

The first moment of pain had awoken something in her that craved more; it was mixed with a complex desire for pleasure that she didn't entirely understand at the moment. He continued moving inside of her, slow and insanely frustrating. She needed more. Each time he filled her completely, a satisfied moan would come from deep in her chest, but even as she moved with him in a perfect rhythm, it still was not enough. She brought up her other leg and dug her heels into his ass, trying to make him move faster, but he would not. It wasn't until the word escaped, against her will, from her lips in a half-gasped moan that he got the hint.

He drove into her with the same force and speed as the first time. Again, she cried out, but her hands flew to his back, wrapping around his torso because she couldn't reach his shoulders, and her nails sank into his skin. Her back arched closer to him. He repeated the action and elicited the same cry of pleasure from her. She couldn't distinguish pain from pleasure any longer- they both had the same effect. He continued and she would give a smaller exclamation each time he filled her, almost lifting her from the bed. Her hips rocked back and forth to meet him each time, her fingers leaving long marks on his back and her heels constantly digging harder into either his thighs or his ass. She gasped and moaned between the high-pitched squeals she emitted. At one point, she noticed the urgency and need in him increase; he moved faster and harder, leaving her in wave after wave of pure euphoria.

She wasn't sure where she ended and he began anymore. Her entire body was shaking and it was all she could do just to keep her hold on him. She wasn't meeting him at every thrust, but he continued, again and again. Her breathing was labored, but each time he crashed against her, she gave him another sound of encouragement. Whether she was moaning or screaming, she didn't know. Every nerve of her body was on fire, singing with the most intense pleasure. Just when she thought she would be completely overwhelmed by the sensation, to the point where she physically could not handle another second, he pushed forward one final time- harder and deeper than she even thought possible. Limbs quaking with wave after wave of intense orgasm, she almost didn't notice that he'd stopped.

Her legs were shaking and throbbing, each muscle twitching. They fell from around him at last and her fingers relaxed, no longer digging deep holes into his back. He pulled away from her and she could not stop the groan. She had been overloaded with the mixture of pleasure and pain. Now her whole body felt like a single nerve that had been teased into a cramp- not exactly painful, though, just tingling and exhausted. He kissed her softly. She made a poor attempt at kissing him back. At last, he rolled over to his side, curling up beside her.

* * *

"I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in her hair. She gave a breathless laugh, and he looked back up. He didn't understand her expression. She was smiling, her eyes still tempting to roll back into her head. It looked like it took every ounce of strength she had left but she turned onto her side, facing him. He closed his eyes, horribly guilty. When she rested her hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes once more to look at her.

Her breathing had slowed and evened out some, but her next word still came out breathless. "_Why_?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her question. Wasn't it obvious? He obviously caused her pain. He deserved her hatred, not this strange smile and the continued light chuckles. She slid over the bed, ever closer, and lifted herself enough to kiss him. "Elsie..."

"Erwin," she countered, matching his sad, guilty tone with one of defiance and teasing. "The only thing you should feel sorry for is that I feel like I need another bath." She giggled at him, her nose wrinkling and eyes closing. "I'm all sweaty." They both were, he realized, her skin sticking to him when she moved back a little.

"Elsie..." he started, halting after her name because he was ashamed to admit to what he'd done. "I... I hurt you."

Her silly grin faded into a small smile and she stroked his cheek, then brushed some of his hair out of his face. "No," she countered softly, "not really." How had he not hurt her? He'd thought he was going to break her in half! Her tiny body had seemed even smaller beneath his. She reached up and pressed her finger to the bridge of his nose, forcing the wrinkles away. "All I felt was pleasure." That couldn't have been the truth, but she'd sounded so sure of herself when she'd said it...

"Don't try to convince me," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I'm not _trying_ to do anything," she retorted, a little hint of frustration in her voice. "If you had hurt me, Erwin, I would have told you to stop." His eyes flashed open once more and he studied her expression. She was serious, no giggling and grinning now. The guilt that ate at his stomach faded somewhat, but did not vanish entirely.

"Alright," he conceded. He was willing to drop the subject for now. The night wasn't over yet, and he didn't want to spend it arguing with her over whether or not he'd hurt her. She did seem okay, aside from her legs spasming every few seconds. "Do you want another bath?"

She considered the question for a moment, then nodded. "With you." He smirked over at her and she sighed. "I'd get up to do it now, but I'm afraid we have to wait for my legs to go back to a solid form. If I couldn't see them, I'd think they were limp noodles." He chuckled and she giggled. She just curled up closer to him, resting her head on his bicep. Bending his arm around her head, his finger brushed a curl away from her face. Lifting her closer, he kissed her lips once, then slipped away from her, sitting up. She rolled over onto her stomach, leaving the shirt behind as she did so, and looked up at him with her head resting on her arms. He found the scar below her right shoulder blade and frowned a little as he traced the symbol with his fingers.

The scar was a brand. He had no doubt that the scar was almost as old as she was. It had faded dramatically, but the skin was a little whiter there, and it didn't have quite the same texture. He'd seen it only once before. He covered the mark with his palm, then turned and stood. He felt the muscles in his back protesting mildly, but he just smiled to himself. That mark on her back no longer made her what she was- he'd freed her from that, at last.

He entered the bathroom and turned on the single gas lamp on the wall by the sink, giving the room a warm, muted glow. Bending to turn on the water in the tub, he found himself grateful for having the modern plumbing installed. The water took several long minutes to finally warm up, but when it did, it filled the tub much faster than boiling buckets of water and dumping them in. He remained until the tub was about three quarters of the way full, then turned it off and aimed to go back to get the beautiful little creature sprawled out over his bed. He found her standing against the door jamb, though, leaning against it and smiling.

"I take it your legs are working again," he teased.

She giggled a little. "Kinda. Not that well." As if to prove it, she stepped forward and swayed a little. He caught her before she could fall. She grinned up at him, then pressed her lips to his chest. He took her arm and pulled her closer to the tub. She used him for balance as she climbed in, almost slipping as she sat. She'd bunched herself up at one end and gave him a pointed look, as if to say "get in already". He slipped into the tub behind her and reached for her, pulling her back as he stretched his legs out around her. Her back and head rested on his chest.

"Better?" he asked, his fingers running through her curls. She nodded, then tilted her head back to look up at him. He could see an unspoken question in her eyes. "What is it?" For a moment, she appeared to be debating with herself, but she just shook her head and lowered it. Her fingers danced along an old scar on his right thigh under the water.

"Thank you." Her words caught him by surprise, and his fingers stopped stroking her hair for a moment. Once he recovered himself, he continued. Elsie's other hand began a similar pattern on his left thigh, but with no scar to trace.

It would have been foolish for him to ask what she was thankful for at this point, so he kept his mouth shut. He found himself having a difficult time remaining still, though, so he leaned forward with her and grabbed the bottle of soap she'd used earlier. He poured some of it directly onto her shoulder. She shivered a little from the cool liquid, but the moment the bottle was back on the shelf, he passed his hand over it again and again, warming it up and creating a lather. In just a few short moments he had the thick suds spread over her back as she leaned forward. He rubbed over her shoulders and down her arms, then pulled her back to his chest. His big hand rubbed over her breasts and ribs, counting each one ad he passed them. His hands passed from her soapy ribs to under the water, down to her navel. The soap mostly vanished as soon as it went under the water, but he was just trying to help her relax right now.

Her hand moved from his left thigh and settled over the top of his, catching it under the water just as he passed between her hip bones. He was surprised when she drew his hand lower, but did not stop her. Her fingers were guiding his, slipping between the folds of skin and over her most sensitive of areas. She sighed moaned ever so softly, but pulled her hand away. His fingers didn't linger in one place. He couldn't be sure if she had only wanted the single touch, or if she'd wanted more, though he guessed the latter. He began a small circular pattern, earning a surprised, slightly higher-pitched little moan of delight. Her hand brushed along his right thigh, gliding slowly under the water up to his waist. Her fingers were light and teasing when she found him, brushing against her hip in a semi-hardness that her little moans of delight and her touch had caused. As he brought her to arousal with his touch, so did she to him. When the burning in his lower abdomen had increased and he was moving his fingers a little more urgently against her, she stopped and pulled his hand away, though hers never left him.

Leaning forward, she made a careful and tight turn in the tub, facing him before coming closer again. She put her right hand on his left shoulder and wedged her bent knees on either side of his hips, lifting herself so that her breasts were almost perfectly level with his mouth. He grabbed her waist and held her in place for a moment, licking and sucking on each tender bud, but not biting down. If it wasn't for the constant attention she was showing to him, he doubted he could have kept it up, but she was determined. She shifted her hips and adjusted him below her, trying to wriggle her way down. His grip on her waist did not lessen, but he lowered her slowly. She gave him a slightly reproach full look as she bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. He smirked up at her, then let her sink down a little more, where his hardness met her, but did not enter. Her fingers tightened and were almost painful as she tried to pull him up higher to meet her. When she made a strangled sound in the back of her throat, he chuckled and lowered her as slowly as he could, slipping inside of her hot center a centimeter at the time. Her hand shot back up and slid over his chest, intentionally grazing his nipples again and again with her fingers and palm. Her other hand was latched around his neck, pressing her body to his when her hand on his chest slipped out of the way. She rocked her hips forward and he felt himself slip deeper inside of her, though he'd hardly thought it was possible. Lessening his hold on her waist, his hand slid from her side to her back.

This was her show now, and the burning look in those liquid brown eyes of her told him she would get her way whether he wanted her to or not. He had no real objections, but the gnawing guilt in his gut had driven him to try to make her move slowly. The last thing he wanted was for her to be in pain. He slid his body forward a little, giving her better access, and let his back rest against the tub. He watched her eyes close and as she bit down on the corner of her lip, rocking her hips forward and backward, lifting herself only a little before pressing down hard once more. His hand raked over her still-soapy chest and found her breast, gently squeezing and rolling her nipple between his fingers as she built up a faster and steadier pace. She then leaned forward and crushed her lips to his, demanding and a little forceful. He let her do as she pleased and responded in kind.

Before too long, his own need began to build up once more. She had given him a frustrated sigh and pressed her forehead to her shoulder, sinking down so that he was fully inside her but not quite moving. She didn't have it in her to keep it up- she was too exhausted from earlier. Although he greatly enjoyed watching her breasts bounce as she'd moved up and down as fast as she could, it wasn't enough- for either of them, he realized. He gripped her waist and lifted her up. She slid back and they were separated. Using handfuls of water, he began to rinse the soap from her shoulders and chest. She helped him along and rinsed the soap that had transferred to him away.

Once they were soap free, he stood and climbed out of the tub. He held out his hand for her and she accepted. Grabbing two towels, he wrapped one around her and the other around his waist. They left little trails of water over the floor as he walked with her back to the dark bedroom. Rather than going straight for the bed, he moved to the dresser and lit the candle resting in the small dish. It wasn't much light, but it was better than only starlight. He turned back around and found her sitting on her knees on the edge of the bed, staring over at him. He smirked and stalked across the floor, abandoning the towel. She gave him a smile that was mixed with lust and feral need.

When he reached her, his hand slid from her side and down around to her ass as she rose, sitting high on her knees. He bent over her, tilting her back and kissed her hard, attempted to drink in her very soul. She wasn't content for just his kisses and his touch, though. He obeyed her touch, pulling away and just keeping his palm touching her skin. To his surprise, she turned around. Her hand found his and she pressed her back to his chest as she moved his hand to settle between her thighs once more. Her other hand came up and found his neck, just rubbing his shoulder and the back of his neck for a moment. He bent lower, his lips and teeth teasing at the skin on her shoulder as she moved his hand and fingers exactly the way she wanted them. He was throbbing, pressed hard against her ass.

To his great surprise, she suddenly pulled her hand away and fell forward, supporting herself with her hands as her ass pressed back against him even harder, wriggling and teasing. She looked back at him over her shoulder. Something about the way her eyebrows were raised expectantly and the way she bit down on her bottom lip sent a hot bolt of lightning straight down his spine. His hand moved to grip her hip. He found her center first, then thrust forward hard and fast, her entire body jerking. She shouted, but he noticed the similarity between this one and when she'd reached her breaking point not so long ago. Her fingers clenched around the blanket on the bed and she forced her hips back against him. He withdrew from her, then drove in just as hard and she groaned, her hips meeting him. He held still for a long moment again, just enjoying the way her muscles tensed around him and the way she struggled to move her hips against him for more. Sensing her frustration, he began again, but didn't stop after just a few thrusts. His fingers dug into her hip, using her bone as an anchor to drive into her over and over, as fast and as deep as she could take. There was a moment where he lost himself to the sounds she made and the way she felt around him and under him. It had happened earlier, but he'd paid less attention to the actual shift in himself. When she was almost screaming, pulsing around him painfully tightly, he did not hold back. He bent forward and wrapped his arm around her waist, driving into her with more force than he'd ever used. Logical thought and reasoning was abandoned for just those few moments that it took before the very last thrust, when he filled her to bursting and just held her there, pulsing and throbbing.

He realized as his pulse slowed that he was still holding her up. Relaxing his grip on her waist she slipped forward and her arms caught her, but only for a second before they gave out. He stepped away from her and she let out a small, high-pitched moan. He sat down on the bed beside her, gathered her up in his arm, and pulled her to his chest as he lay on his back. Her muscles were twitching and jumping again, and he could feel her trying to get control over her short, shallow, and rapid breaths. She rested her chin on his chest as he stroked her back and smiled.

* * *

When she woke, she gained awareness before opening her eyes. She could feel Erwin running his fingers through the ends of her curls, tickling her back every so often. She was still resting her head on his chest, curled up to his side with one of her legs tossed casually over his left thigh. His arm was wrapped around her, keeping her pressed close. She loved this feeling of waking up next to him. The room was warm, but only the sheet was covering her body and part of his. Turning her head, she kissed his chest once before opening her eyes. She lifted her torso and slid up to his face, kissing his lips once and smiling brightly. He returned it, but he seemed distracted. Determined not to let him ruin her wonderful mood, she sat up and stretched. Each of her muscles sang with sore stiffness, but it wasn't unpleasant.

"Good morning," he said softly, his fingers tracing down her ribs. She flinched away from the ticklish touch and grinned back at him.

"Good morning." It didn't seem like enough to say, but it was all she could manage. He sat up behind her and wrapped his arm over her shoulder and around her chest, pulling her back. She found herself content and happy- two things she hadn't felt in a very long time. She never wanted him to leave, but she knew that was asking too much. He'd already done more than she could ever hope for in her entire life.

She thought for a moment about the other women, men, and children still left in the Underground. She was lucky enough to have Erwin rescue her from the darkness, but they were still trapped, enslaved by Miranda and the people she received them from. Had she known anyone well enough to care for them, she might have considered asking him to go back for them one day, but her one and only friend had been purchased months ago. Elsie herself had once dreamed of some wrath man on the interior buying her and bringing her Topside. No matter what she was forced to do, it would have been better than living down there. But that was before she met Erwin.

"Do you want breakfast?" Erwin asked, interrupting her thoughts. She shook her head. It was unusual for her to eat more than once a day, so she wasn't hungry. Years of starving followed by the week of an over-crowded Underground and the subsequent food shortage had her body adjusted to living off of very little food. "I don't have long..."

She frowned and tilted her head back, looking up at him. He bent forward to kiss her lips. "I know you have to leave," she whispered, "but do you know when you will be back?" He shook his head. "Just come back alive, okay?"

He brushed some of the hair from her face, but said nothing. She knew he couldn't make that sort of promise, but she wanted him to. She needed to hear him say the words so that she would feel better, more confident, about his return to her. Lowering her head, she turned so that she was curled up against his side, both of her arms wrapping around his waist. She never wanted to let him go. As the sun began to brighten the day even more, though, he gently pulled her arms away and got up.

* * *

Dressed in uniform once more, Erwin stood at the threshold to his own house. He'd never said goodbye to anyone before, and the sensation was difficult to become adjusted to. Just before turning to leave, he kissed her deeply. The carriage was already waiting for him, though, and he had no more time to spare. "I'll come back," he promised her, not knowing if it was even possible to keep such a promise.

"I'll be waiting," she whispered back. He left her at the door with tears in her eyes. He wasn't a religious man; he'd never seen the point in such farcical nonsense. However, as he made his way down the thin dirt path that had been worn over years of travel, he prayed to anyone and anything that would listen. All he wanted was to return to her.

* * *

**A/N:** Well! This took a hell of a lot out of me to write... Spent days on this monster of a chapter. (It's just a few words [7] shy of 11,000 words.) If you did survive this chapter, congrats! (I almost didn't...) I really hope it was enjoyable.

God, the puns... They're murdering me.

If you took the time to read this long-ass chapter, give me a fucking review. I mean _fuck_. This took a lot of effort to write, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd throw me a line or two. If it was great, tell me. If it sucked, for fuck's sake, **tell me.** (See what I did just there? Another fucking pun... And again!)

Don't read and leave.

That's like a one night stand.

I don't do that bullshit.

Neither should you!


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